


Emotional Support Creature

by Verity_Kindle



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Mental Health Issues, Nott for Goblin of the Year, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers through C2Ep7, Team as Family, supportive disaster squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verity_Kindle/pseuds/Verity_Kindle
Summary: After their adventures in the mines, Fjord just wants to enjoy the festivities. Certain goblins and their catatonic father-figures may not allow it.





	Emotional Support Creature

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through all of Episode 7!

Caleb and Nott vanished during the celebration. Nobody was much surprised. Nott had been a bloody mess, even after they’d done what healing they could, and Caleb-

If Caleb had strung three words together in all the hours since they’d left the mines, Fjord would eat his hat. 

Nobody rightly knew what was going on with either of those two, and for once, Fjord was okay with that. He’d been through the wringer himself that day, and had the sore muscles and roaring appetite to show for it. That last few minutes, when everything had been falling apart and he hadn’t even been able to move to protect himself or help any of the others- well, for once Fjord fully understood little Nott’s desire for the hard stuff. 

They were all taking it easy, and if they were preening a bit in the compliments and thanks showered upon them by the grateful villagers, well, they’d earned that, too. Molly had been the one to sidle over and point out that their reclusive friends were gone, and Fjord just shrugged. For once, he was gonna mind his own business, relax a bit, and let everyone look after their own damned selves. Tomorrow was soon enough to try to dig in and patch everything up a bit better. 

So he was a few drinks in, comfortably warm and enjoying a companionable discussion with those of his group who were still awake on the relative merits of various traveling foods, when Nott appeared at his elbow. She came out of the shadows making less sound than a rattlesnake’s boots, and Jester’s shout of surprise was the first warning any of them had. 

She was still a wreck, poor little mite. Her already shabby clothes were torn and bloodstained, and her eyes were huge in her pointy little face. She had her hands clasped tightly in front of her, long claw-like fingers twisting together in nervous movements. Fjord automatically turned to look into the shadows for Caleb. 

He wasn’t there. 

Nott went everywhere with Caleb. Fjord couldn’t think of more than a time or two he’d seen them separate, and certainly Caleb had always been somewhere close at hand. A feeling of dread crept over him, and he sat up straight, beckoning the little goblin forward. “Nott? What’s the matter?”

She crept forward, but didn’t sit at the table with them; fingers still twisting, glancing nervously over her shoulders. Molly frowned, red eyes becoming narrow, thoughtful slits. Beau snored. 

“It’s Caleb,” she said, her voice a raspy squeak that barely carried over the noise of the celebration. Molly swore, an impressively creative curse that made Jester grin in approval. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this, and I hope he doesn’t get cross with me, but I need to help him and I don’t know how!”

Jester looked grumpy, but Fjord noted how she put her cup down at once and began to root around for her healer’s kit. “Everybody is always needing to be healed,” she groused, grabbing the kit with confident hands. “Why didn’t he say something before? Now he will have to skip the donuts, because I am all out!”

Nott shook her head, green hands outstretched; it wasn’t lost on Fjord how quickly she withdrew into her cloak and wrappings when unfriendly eyes around them lit on her. “No, not like that! Sorry! I wasn’t clear. He’s not hurt!” A moment of doubt flickered over her features. “I mean, he is hurt, he’s just not hurt hurt.”

Fjord put his own glass down and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He should have known better than to push off the issues until later. “Slow down, little Nott,” he said, his own voice made a bit slower with the drink. “Help us out here, so we can help you. Is Caleb hurt or not?”

Nott grabbed hold of a chunk of her own hair, twisting it furiously between her claws. “I’m not sure! He said he wasn’t, and I never saw him get hurt, but something’s wrong! He won’t talk, and he didn’t even get excited about the Book Money, and he keeps just standing there! I was talking to him and everything, and he wasn’t listening. It was like he couldn’t hear me!”

The raw fear on the little goblin’s face was enough to chase away any desire to dismiss her concerns. There was desperation in those strange yellow eyes that Fjord could identify with. Caleb was the girl’s everything, that had always been clear; what was suddenly obvious was that she was terrified for him. Jester cooed and flung herself off the bench to join Nott on the floor, wrapping her arms tightly around the scrawny, ragged figure. 

“That’s ok!” Jester said brightly. “We will figure it out, you and me! Another case to crack wide open!” Nott didn’t smile, but a little of the fear bled away. 

“Maybe he’s just not ready to talk about it.” Molly’s voice was low and steady, and directed at the tabletop. “Sometimes people just need their space for a bit, you know.” Beau snored again, and Molly kicked her, in a friendly way. 

“But what if that priest did something to him?” Nott demanded, voice growing shriller. “We don’t know what happened! Maybe it sucked out his soul and he’s just walking around now, but in an hour he’ll fall down dead! Maybe the manticore has some way of controlling people even when it’s dead, and now it’s got Caleb because of what I did to its baby!” Her voice was creaking like a sail in the wind, and her little hands were sharp-clawed fists by her sides. 

“I don’t think so,” Molly said. He didn’t look up. “I saw him, just after. It’s mind, not magic. Leave him be for a bit.”

“That’s true, you know,” Jester said wisely. “Caleb always needs a little bit of time after we fight things. I think that’s part of being a coward, technically.”

Nott hissed at that, baring snaggle-toothed fangs that, even after a few days of practice, Fjord couldn’t see as adorable, no matter what Caleb said. “He’s not a coward! He’s very smart, and-“ 

“We know,” Fjord interrupted. They didn’t have time for the whole litany. “Look, how do you know it’s not just a bad reaction to what we went through down there? Plenty of people might get quiet, seeing the things we did today.”

“Because he doesn’t hear me!” Nott shouted, shrugging Jester off and climbing up on the bench to face Fjord directly. “I was talking to him and calling him and Caleb isn’t listening!”

Something clicked, all at once. Nott’s eyes were bright with tears, and now that she was so close, he could see where tears had cut clean lines in the grime on her face. She’d been crying, before. Caleb hadn’t heard her. His stomach clenched. 

“And Caleb always listens to you, doesn’t he?” Fjord asked, keeping his voice gentle. “Especially when you’re frightened?” Nott nodded, tears beginning to fall, and Fjord wondered again just how old the little creature was. Just now, she didn’t seem much older than the child she had saved in the mines. Hesitantly, he reached out to pat her back, and tried not to react at just how bony she felt under those layers of rags. She and Caleb could both do with a few weeks of square meals under their belts. 

“This sort of thing ever happened before?” Molly asked, still sounding uninterested, still staring at the tabletop. “With Caleb, I mean?”

“Not like this,” Nott sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “The day before we met you lot, we had a pretty bad time of it, and he got really quiet and slept for hours and hours and hours, but it wasn’t like this!”

“Ever see him burn someone up like that before?” Molly asked. He traced some pattern on the table with one fingertip. 

“Noooo,” Nott said slowly. “Caleb fights with magic fire, sometimes, but usually he doesn’t kill anything! Mostly he just almost gets killed and we run away!”

“Good strategy,” Beau said, her voice muffled by the bench her face was pressed into. She snorted and rolled over, and was snoring again in a heartbeat. 

“Minds are funny things,” Molly said slowly. “Sometimes they’re trying to protect us, but they’ve got a funny way of going about it. Sometimes, if something really terrible has happened, they’ve got a way of dragging you back into those memories, ‘specially if something’s reminded you of it badly.”

Fjord’s hand went to his chest automatically, remembering the sensation of water in his lungs. He knew what Molly meant. 

Jester looked frustrated, digging through her healers kit with careless haste. “Technically, I don’t think this has anything that will stop that! I don’t know how to cure minds!”

“Nor does anybody else,” Molly said with a strange half-smile. “Give him time and space, and make him feel safe. That’s the best we can do for now, until he’s ready to talk about it in his own time.”

Fjord nodded slowly. “Nott, what makes Caleb feel safe?” 

Her ears twitched. “I don’t know! Books, sometimes? Me, I think, if he knows I’m safe too.” Fjord frowned. They couldn’t get him books at this time of night, and he hadn’t been responding to Nott. She was still twisting that beleaguered lock of hair, fingers twitching, and he wished that damn cat would show up and sit on her shoulders to give her something to-

“The damn cat!” Fjord shouted. Beau rolled off the bench and landed on the ground, and slept on. Nott and the tieflings just stared at him, not comprehending his genius. “Look, what does Caleb do when you’re worried? Sics that damn cat on you to calm you down. Bet you ten gold he does the same thing for himself.”

Nott’s mouth opened in a terrifying gape of recognition, and Jester nodded slowly. “Oh, you’re right,” she breathed. “Now I feel a little bad that I told him not to make it a cat again. Only a little bit, though.”

“But Frumpkin is dead again,” Nott protested. “It always takes Caleb a long time to get all the things he needs to get Frumpkin back! And he can’t do magic in this state, anyway!”

“No, that’s true,” Molly said, more gently than Fjord would have expected. “But I’ll tell you what we can do. We can gather all the things he’ll need for the spell and have ‘em ready for him, first thing in the morning. I don’t imagine Caleb will want to talk to any of us about this, and this way, we don’t have to.”

“Okay!” Jester shouted, jumping to her feet. “We get all the things so Caleb can have his kitty back, and then things will be better again! Also, then we will have Frumpy back, too, which is so good!” She looked at Nott suspiciously. “You’re not going to eat him again, are you?”

Nott made a face and scrubbed at the tears which were slowing, now. “‘Course not. I only ate him when Caleb was scared I was gonna die of hunger! Frumpkin tastes like ashes, anyway.”

“Sounds like we have a plan, then,” Fjord said formally. “Jester, you come with me, and we’ll round up the spell components. Shouldn’t be too hard, what with everyone owing us their lives and all.”

“I’m sitting right here and drinking myself stupid,” Molly said cheerfully. He poked Beau with one toe. “Suppose I can keep an eye on this one while you’re gone.”

“Are you good to go stay with Caleb for a bit?” Fjord asked, turning back to Nott. She still looked so tiny without Caleb’s protective presence. 

“He’s not really there,” she said slowly.

“All the more reason,” Jester insisted. “You should be there, like when he is watching through Frumpkin. Maybe he can’t hear you, but you can still look after him!” Nott nodded dubiously at that, but she wasn’t crying anymore. 

“All right. We’ll be back in a little while,” Fjord promised. “Nott, if you need anything, you send us a message with that nifty little spell of yours, y’hear? I’ll keep my ears open until Caleb is back on his feet.” 

She looked at him for a long moment, a strange bundle of twitches and nerves and stone cold bravery, and Fjord was taken aback when the little goblin flung herself at him for a moment, her scrawny arms wrapping around his neck. It took him a second to realize she was hugging him. He lifted a careful hand to pat her back. 

“You’re sure he’s going to be all right?” Nott whispered in his ear. Fjord smiled at her as she pulled back. 

“‘Course he will. He’s got you and Frumpkin, and the rest of us, now, too. We’ll get him sorted out.” She nodded at that and then darted into the shadows, gone before he could even blink. Jester fluttered over, pulling him to his feet and off on a midnight quest, and Fjord spent a tiny moment mourning his lost night of careless ease. 

“Thank you,” Nott’s voice whispered in his ear from far away, and Fjord pushed his glass away and started walking. They had a cat and a wizard to rescue.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, another love letter to Nott. Who can be surprised? I love my trash princess daughter. 
> 
> I’m really excited that they may be tackling some significant mental health issues on the show, and wanted to play a bit with the concept in a fantasy setting with no clinical understanding of things like PTSD. Molly seems to understand more than one might expect. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, y’all! What an incredible community! I’m honored to be a part of it.


End file.
